YT YouTube2Text

YouTube2Text → Transcripts → I'd had a headache for 7 days, but my husband and his mother kept saying, It's nothing.

I'd had a headache for 7 days, but my husband and his mother kept saying, It's nothing. — Transcript

by OverTales · 6,521 words · 880 segments · language en · Watch on YouTube

Open in transcriber Summarize with AI Download SRT/VTT

Full transcript

0:00I'd had a headache for 7 days, but my
0:01husband and his mother kept saying,
0:03"It's nothing. You don't need a doctor."
0:04So, I took a taxi to the hospital alone.
0:06The doctor was checking me when he
0:07suddenly stopped. Then he yelled, "Call
0:09the police right now." I froze. What
0:11happened next shocked me. The paper on
0:13the exam table crackled every time I
0:14breathed, so I tried not to breathe. The
0:16doctor had warm hands. That's what I
0:18remember first. He'd asked me to tip my
0:19head forward and he was pressing gently
0:21along the back of my skull with two
0:23fingers behind my right ear where the
0:25headache lived. I told him about the
0:26sting. I told him about the knot. I'd
0:28said, "It's probably nothing. My
0:30mother-in-law thinks it's a migraine.
0:32I'm sorry to waste your Saturday." His
0:33fingers stopped. They didn't move away.
0:35They just stopped. Pressed against the
0:37little hard lump behind my ear and
0:39stayed there. I heard him breathe in
0:40through his nose. He said, "Don't move
0:42your head, Mrs. Potter, not even a
0:43little." Then he said, "How long ago did
0:45you say this happened?" I said, "7 days.
0:47Last Saturday night." He took his hand
0:48away very slowly like I was a bomb and
0:51said he wanted a quick scan. A nurse
0:52wheeled me down a hallway. I lay in the
0:54machine and listened to it work. They
0:56wheeled me back. I waited 11 minutes by
0:58the clock on the wall. When the doctor
0:59came back in, he had a printout in his
1:01hand and he didn't sit down. He said,
1:03"Mrs. Potter, do you know that you've
1:04been shot?" I laughed. I actually
1:05laughed because it was the stupidest
1:07thing I'd ever heard. Then I saw his
1:08face and I stopped. What he said next
1:10and what he yelled through the open door
1:11to the nurses' station a few seconds
1:13after that is the reason my whole life
1:15is different now. But it only makes
1:16sense if you know where I live and who I
1:17lived with and what I'd been told for 7
1:19days. My name is Cheyenne Potter. I'm 36
1:22and I drive a school bus for a district
1:23outside Billings, Montana. Route 11. 52
1:26kids, gravel roads, cattle guards, a lot
1:28of country music I don't pick. I've
1:30driven it for 6 years and I've never had
1:32an accident and I'm prouder of that than
1:33almost anything. My husband Jared is 39.
1:36We've been married 13 years and we have
1:37two daughters, nine and six. We live on
1:395 acres off a county road east of town
1:42in a three-bedroom manufactured home
1:44with a big covered porch and a
1:45clothesline I put up myself because I
1:47like how sheets smell when they dry in
1:48the wind. To the west of our place,
1:50there's a long low ridge of sandstone
1:52and sagebrush. On the other side of that
1:54ridge, about a mile and a quarter from
1:56our back porch, there's a private
1:57shooting range called Big Sky Precision
1:59Range. Jared has worked there for 4
2:01years as a range officer. He calls the
2:03ceasefires, checks the lanes, makes sure
2:04nobody does anything stupid. He loves
2:06it. He's a good shot and a careful man,
2:08and in 4 years I'd never once worried
2:10about him there. The range is owned by a
2:12man named Jared Witt. Jared is 58, loud,
2:15generous, the kind of guy who brings a
2:16smoked brisket to every church potluck.
2:19He's also my mother-in-law's first
2:20cousin. They grew up on neighboring
2:21ranches. My mother-in-law Lorene is 68.
2:24She moved us in 2023 after her hip
2:26replacement because she couldn't do
2:28stairs in her own place anymore, and she
2:30said she didn't want to be a burden to
2:31anybody. She took over the third bedroom
2:33and the checkbook. She's very good with
2:34money. She's also the kind of woman who
2:36thinks most doctors are crooks and most
2:38pain is in your head. We'd lived with
2:39the sound of that range for 5 years.
2:41Every weekend from spring to fall you
2:43could hear it over the ridge. A crack,
2:45then a while later, faint and high, the
2:46ping of a bullet hitting a steel target
2:48way out at the far end. The girls used
2:50to count the pings. After a while you
2:51don't hear it at all. It's just weather.
2:53The range had added a long-distance
2:55course in the spring of 2024, steel
2:57plates out at a thousand yards. Jared
2:59said it brought in serious shooters from
3:00three states. Saturday, September 12th,
3:02was a warm evening, one of those last
3:04summer nights where the light goes gold
3:06and then orange. Jared was at the range
3:08running a big match they called the Big
3:09Sky 1K. The girls were in the house with
3:11their grandma watching a movie. I had a
3:13load of sheets on the line and I wanted
3:14them in before the dew. It was about 20
3:16after 7. The sun was right on the ridge.
3:18I was reaching up for a close pin when I
3:20heard something go past my head. A thin,
3:22whining zip, like a giant mosquito, and
3:24at the same instant, something stung me
3:26behind my right ear, hard, like a hornet
3:27had slammed into me at full speed. I
3:29said a word I don't say on the bus and
3:31grabbed my head. When I took my hand
3:32away, there was blood on my fingertips.
3:34Not a lot, a thin smear, bright red. I
3:36looked around for the wasp. There wasn't
3:38one. There was just the sheets moving
3:39and the sound of the range over the
3:41ridge, still going, crack and ping. I
3:43went inside holding a paper towel to my
3:45head. Lorene looked at it under the
3:46kitchen light. She said, "Wasp got you.
3:48Mean little things this time of year."
3:50She got out the hydrogen peroxide and
3:52dabbed it, and it fizzed and she put a
3:53little round bandage on it and that was
3:55that. Jared got home a little after 8:30
3:57smelling like gun oil and sunscreen. The
3:59match had run late, he said. They'd had
4:01a relay go right up until dark. I showed
4:03him the bandage and told him about the
4:04wasp. He peeled it back to look. He was
4:06quiet for a long time, longer than you'd
4:08look at a wasp sting. I felt his fingers
4:11pressed around the edges and then I felt
4:12them stop, the same way the doctors
4:14would stop a week later and then move
4:15away. He said in a flat voice I didn't
4:17recognize, "What time was this?" I said,
4:20"About 7:20." "Why?" He said, "Did you
4:22hear anything? Like a whine?" I said, "I
4:24heard a zip, like a bug. Why?" He didn't
4:25answer for a second. Then he put the
4:27bandage back down very carefully and
4:29said, "Probably a rock. Somebody's mower
4:31or a truck on the county road kicks up
4:32gravel. It can fly a long way." Nobody
4:34was mowing on Saturday evening. There's
4:36no gravel road on that side of the
4:38house. I didn't think about either of
4:39those things until much later. At the
4:41time, I just thought he was tired. Then
4:43he went into his mother's room and
4:44closed the door and they talked for a
4:46long time in low voices and I thought it
4:48was about her hip. The headache started
4:49the next morning. At first, it was just
4:51a dull ache behind my right ear, like
4:53I'd slept on it wrong. I took ibuprofen
4:55and went to church. By Monday, it had
4:56spread up over the top of my head and
4:58down into my neck, a tight band that
5:00didn't go away. I took more ibuprofen
5:02and drove my route and there was a knot.
5:03I could feel it under my hair if I
5:05pressed, a small hard bump right where
5:06the sting had been, about the size of a
5:08pea, that didn't feel like any bug bite
5:10I'd ever had. It didn't move when I
5:11pushed on it. It felt like it was stuck
5:13to my skull. Tuesday, I asked Lorene if
5:15she thought I should get it looked at.
5:16She was doing the crossword at the
5:17kitchen table. She didn't look up. She
5:19said, "It's a sting, Cheyenne. Bumps
5:21from stings get hard. Put ice on it."
5:23Wednesday, the headache woke me up at
5:244:00 in the morning. I lay there in the
5:25dark with my hand over my eye because
5:27the light from the clock was too bright
5:29and I listened to Jared breathe beside
5:31me and I thought, "Something is wrong."
5:32On Wednesday night, the fourth day, I
5:34said it out loud at dinner. I said, "I
5:36think I'm going to go to urgent care
5:37tomorrow after my route." Jared and his
5:39mother looked at each other. It was
5:41quick. I almost didn't catch it. Jared
5:42said, "Babe, it's nothing. It's a sting
5:44and a headache. You've been driving that
5:46bus in the sun every day." Lorine said,
5:48"You don't need a doctor. A doctor is
5:49going to charge us $400 to tell you it's
5:51a bug bite." That was the part that
5:53stopped me because it was true. We have
5:54a high deductible insurance plan, $6,000
5:57before it pays for anything. Lorine
5:59keeps the budget and she'd showed me in
6:00August, line by line, how tight we were
6:03going to be through Christmas. An urgent
6:04care visit and a scan could eat our
6:06grocery money for a month. I said, "I
6:08just want somebody to look at it." Jared
6:09reached across the table and squeezed my
6:11hand. He said, "If it's not better by
6:12the weekend, I'll take you myself,
6:14okay?" I said, "Okay." I wanted to
6:15believe that the people who loved me
6:17knew better than my own head and I think
6:18part of me was embarrassed. I drive a
6:20school bus. I tell 8-year-olds to
6:21toughen up about splinters. On Monday
6:23morning, two days after the sting, my
6:24Tahoe had started slipping between
6:26second and third gear. By that
6:27afternoon, it wouldn't shift at all. It
6:29went to the transmission shop in town
6:31and the man there said a week at least
6:32and probably $2,000. So now I had no
6:35car. Jared drove his truck to the range
6:37and the district sent a van to pick me
6:38up for my route because they're good
6:39like that. Lorine has a little Buick,
6:41but she doesn't drive after 4:00 in the
6:42afternoon anymore because of her eyes,
6:44she says, and she doesn't drive on the
6:46interstate at all. I didn't think of it
6:47as being trapped. Lots of families have
6:49one car for a week, but by Friday, when
6:51my head was so bad I couldn't stand the
6:53sound of the dishwasher, it started to
6:55feel like a fence. Even if I'd decided
6:56to go, I couldn't have gone, not without
6:58asking one of them to take me. Thursday,
7:00the sixth day, I threw up in the
7:02bathroom at the bus barn before my
7:03afternoon route. I thought it was
7:04something I ate. I drove anyway. Halfway
7:06through the route, on a stretch of
7:07county road with nothing but a fence
7:09line and a windmill, the light coming
7:10off the windshield hit my eyes like a
7:12nail. I pulled the bus over onto the
7:14shoulder and put my forehead on the
7:15steering wheel. Behind me, 52 kids went
7:17completely silent, which if you've ever
7:19driven a school bus, you know is the
7:20scariest sound in the world. A fourth
7:22grader in the front seat said, "Miss
7:24Cheyenne, are you okay?" I called
7:25dispatch on the radio. They sent a sub
7:27driver out in a district truck and took
7:29me home. My dispatcher, a gruff woman
7:31who's been there 20 years, walked me to
7:33the door and said, "You get that head
7:34looked at. I mean it." Lorine met me at
7:36the door. She said, "Migraines. All the
7:38women in my family got them. My mother
7:40used to lie in a dark room for 3 days.
7:42You lie down. I'll handle the girls.
7:43Saturday, September 19th was the seventh
7:46day. Jared left for the range at 6:00 in
7:48the morning for another match. Before he
7:50went, he kissed my forehead and said,
7:52"You stay in bed. Mom's got the girls."
7:53I said I wanted to go to the emergency
7:55room. He said, "Let's see how you are
7:56when I get home tonight." By noon, I
7:58couldn't look at the window. My neck was
8:00stiff. When I bent over to tie my shoe,
8:01the pain behind my ear was so sharp, I
8:03saw white sparks. I keep $60 in the
8:05bottom of my bus lunch box under the ice
8:08pack for emergencies. Flat tires, a kid
8:10who forgot lunch money on a field trip.
8:12I took it out and sat on the edge of the
8:13bed and looked up a cab company in
8:15Billings on my phone. Lorene heard me on
8:17the phone and came to the door of the
8:18bedroom with a dish towel over her
8:20shoulder. She said, "Cheyenne, you're
8:21being dramatic. Jared will be home in 6
8:23hours." I said, "Then I'll be back in 6
8:25hours." The cab took 40 minutes to come
8:27out. The fare was $48. The driver was a
8:29retired man with a Vietnam veteran cap
8:31who didn't say a word the whole way, and
8:33I was so grateful for the silence, I
8:35tipped him the rest of my 60. The
8:36emergency room at the hospital in
8:38Billings was busy on a Saturday
8:39afternoon. A kid with a broken arm, a
8:41man holding a towel to his hand. I sat
8:43in triage and told the nurse about the
8:45sting and the headache and the knot, and
8:47I watched her write wasp sting with a
8:49question mark. After an hour, they put
8:50me in an exam room with a curtain. The
8:52doctor who came in introduced himself as
8:54Dr. Ramos. He was in his 50s with gray
8:56at his temples and reading glasses
8:58pushed up on his head, and he said he'd
8:59been doing emergency medicine for 20
9:01years. He asked me to tell him
9:03everything from the beginning, and he
9:04listened like it was the only thing he
9:06had to do that day. Then he asked me to
9:07tip my head forward, and his fingers
9:09found the knot. And they stopped. That I
9:11told you about at the beginning, the
9:13scan, the printout. Do you know you've
9:14been shot? I laughed, and then I stopped
9:16laughing, and he turned the printout
9:17around so I could see it. It was a
9:19picture of the inside of my head, gray
9:21and black, ghostly. And right behind my
9:22right ear, against the outside of my
9:24skull, there was a small, perfectly
9:26white shape, bright as a star, a little
9:28bent at one end. He said, "That's metal.
9:30It's under your scalp, sitting right on
9:31the bone. It didn't go through. Your
9:33skull stopped it. But it's been in there
9:34for a week, and you've got swelling and
9:36some bleeding under the scalp, and
9:38you've had a significant concussion. My
9:39hands had gone so numb I couldn't feel
9:41the paper. He said, "Mrs. Potter, who's
9:43at your house right now?" I said, "My
9:44mother-in-law, my two girls." He said,
9:46"Is there a gun in your house?" I said,
9:48"My husband's. He works at a shooting
9:49range." He said, "Where's your husband
9:51right now?" I said, "At the range." He
9:52said, "Did your husband tell you not to
9:54come to the hospital?" I opened my mouth
9:56and I couldn't make the answer come out,
9:57and that was answer enough. Doctor Ramos
9:59turned toward the open curtain and the
10:00nurses' station beyond it, and in a
10:02voice that made every head in that
10:04hallway turn, he yelled, "Call the
10:05police right now!" I froze. I don't know
10:07what my face did. I just sat there on
10:09the crackling paper holding a picture of
10:11a bullet inside my own head, and I
10:13thought, very clearly, he thinks Jared
10:15shot me. And then a second thought, much
10:17quieter, came right behind it. The
10:19range. A sheriff's deputy came first,
10:21young and polite, who took my name and
10:22my address and asked me again and again
10:24what had happened on September 12th. I
10:26told him about the clothesline and the
10:28zip and the sting. He wrote it all down.
10:30He asked if I'd been arguing with my
10:31husband. I said, no. He asked if my
10:33husband had been home at 7:20 that
10:35night. I said, no, he was at the range.
10:36He got home after 8:30. He wrote that
10:38down, too, and I saw him underline
10:40something. About an hour later, a
10:41detective came. He was tall and quiet in
10:43a canvas jacket instead of a uniform,
10:45and he introduced himself as Detective
10:47McLean, 16 years with the Yellowstone
10:49County Sheriff's Office. He pulled a
10:50plastic chair up to the bed and sat, so
10:52we were eye level. He said, "I'm going
10:54to ask you some questions you won't
10:55like. That's my job, not an accusation,
10:58okay?" He asked about our marriage,
10:59about money, about whether Jared had
11:01ever hit me, ever threatened me, ever
11:03cleaned a gun in the house angry, about
11:05I answered every one, and my voice shook
11:07the whole time, not because the answers
11:09were bad, but because I could hear how
11:10it all sounded. A woman shot in her
11:12backyard. A husband who works with guns.
11:14A husband who said, "It's nothing. You
11:16don't need a doctor." When he was done,
11:18I said, "There's a shooting range over
11:19the ridge behind our house, a mile and a
11:21quarter. Jared works there. They had a
11:23long-distance match that night until
11:24dark." Detective McLean looked at me for
11:26a long time. He said, "That's over a
11:27mile, Mrs. Potter, over a ridge." I
11:29said, "I know how far it is. I've been
11:31listening to it for 5 years. They took
11:33the bullet out that night. It wasn't
11:34surgery like you'd think. Dr. Ramos
11:36numbed the area with a lot of little
11:37shots, which hurt worse than anything
11:39else that day. And a surgeon from
11:40upstairs made a small cut behind my ear
11:42while I lay on my side and counted the
11:44holes in the ceiling tile. I felt
11:45pressure and tugging. Then I heard a
11:47small hard click, like a pebble dropped
11:49into a coffee cup. The surgeon said,
11:50"There it is." I asked to see it. The
11:52nurse held up a plastic specimen cup
11:54before Detective McClane took it and
11:55sealed it into an evidence bag and wrote
11:57on the bag with a marker. It was smaller
11:59than my pinky nail. Copper colored on
12:00one side. The other side was smashed
12:02flat and smeared with something gray,
12:04like a dirty thumbprint. It didn't look
12:06like a bullet in a movie. It looked like
12:07a piece of junk you'd find in a parking
12:09lot. That piece of junk had been sitting
12:10against my skull for 7 days while I
12:12drove a bus full of children. Dr. Ramos
12:14patted my shoulder. He said, "You're
12:16very lucky. An inch lower and an inch
12:18forward and we'd be having a different
12:20conversation. If you'd waited another
12:21week with that swelling, we might be,
12:23too." Jared and Lorene came at 10:00
12:25that night. Someone from the hospital
12:26had called Jared when they couldn't
12:28reach anyone at the house. And I heard
12:30later that a deputy had driven out to
12:31our place to check on the girls. Jared
12:33came through the curtain first. He was
12:35white, not pale. White like the
12:36bedsheet. He came straight to me and put
12:38his hands on either side of my face and
12:40said my name. And his hands were shaking
12:42so badly I could feel it in my teeth.
12:43Lorene came in behind him with her purse
12:45clutched in front of her. The first
12:46thing she said to me was, "You took a
12:48cab? Do you know what this is going to
12:49cost?" Detective McClane asked to speak
12:51with Jared in the hallway. I could see
12:53them through the gap in the curtain.
12:54Jared stood with his arms crossed, then
12:56uncrossed, then crossed again. I heard
12:58pieces. I heard Jared say, "No, sir. I
13:00was at the range. There's 40 people who
13:02will tell you." And I heard him say, a
13:03little too loud, "Nobody could hit
13:05anything from the range. It's over a
13:06mile. You'd have to be shooting at the
13:08sky." He'd answered a question nobody
13:10had asked him yet. They let me go home
13:11Sunday afternoon with a bandage, a
13:13prescription for something for the pain,
13:15and strict instructions to rest. Jared
13:17drove. Lorene sat in the back. Nobody
13:19talked. At home, Jared was perfect. He
13:21brought me tea. He took the girls to the
13:23park. He fixed the loose step on the
13:24porch that had been loose since July. He
13:26hovered at the edge of every room I was
13:28in, like a dog that's done something
13:29wrong. On Monday night, while I lay on
13:31the couch with a cold washcloth over my
13:33eyes, he sat on the floor beside me and
13:34said, casually, "What did they say it
13:36was? The detective? Did they say what
13:38kind of bullet?" I took the washcloth
13:39off my eyes and looked at him. I said,
13:41"They're sending it to the state crime
13:42lab." "Why?" He said, "No reason. Just
13:44curious." He wasn't curious. My husband
13:47has never been curious about anything in
13:48his life in that voice. Detective
13:50McClain called on Wednesday. He'd driven
13:52out to the range himself and talked to
13:53Jared Witt. He told me Jared had walked
13:55him around the whole facility, showed
13:57him the berms, the high dirt walls
13:58behind the targets that are supposed to
13:59stop every bullet, showed him the
14:01permits, told him nobody had ever had a
14:03complaint. Then Jared had suggested that
14:05what probably happened was some kid with
14:07a .22 out plinking in the hills shooting
14:09at prairie dogs, didn't know where his
14:10rounds were going. Happens all the time
14:12out here, he'd said. "Terrible thing.
14:14Wish I could help." The detective said,
14:15"I'll be honest, it sounded reasonable."
14:17Then he said, "The lab got back to me
14:19this morning. The bullet in my head was
14:20not a .22. It was a .65 mm rifle bullet,
14:23a long, sleek kind of round that's
14:25popular with long-distance target
14:26shooters. And the flattened side was
14:28covered in lead smears and tiny marks
14:30consistent with striking a hard steel
14:32surface at speed before it came to me."
14:34He said, "Kids plinking prairie dogs
14:36don't shoot steel. People at
14:37thousand-yard matches do." I said,
14:39"Jared told you there'd never been a
14:40complaint." He said, "That's what he
14:42told me. So I went and found the
14:43complaints myself." I couldn't drive
14:45yet, so I walked. On Thursday afternoon,
14:47with a ball cap over my bandage, I
14:49walked up the county road knocking on
14:51doors. There aren't many. Out where we
14:52live, your neighbor might be half a mile
14:54away. The first was an old rancher named
14:56in my head only as the man with the blue
14:58healer because I'd been waving at him
14:59for five years and never learned his
15:01name. He listened to me with his hat in
15:02his hands, and then he walked me out to
15:04his equipment shed and showed me his
15:06horse trailer. There was a hole in the
15:07side of it high up near the roof, ragged
15:09on the way out. He said it happened in
15:10July of 2025. He said he'd called the
15:13county. He said a man from the county
15:15came out, took a picture, and told him
15:16it was probably a hunter. The second was
15:18a young couple with a new baby three
15:20properties down. In March, something had
15:22punched a hole clean through the metal
15:23roof of their garden shed and dented a
15:25wheelbarrow inside. The husband had dug
15:27the slug out of the wheelbarrow and kept
15:28it in a pill bottle. He showed it to me,
15:30smashed flat on one side. He'd called
15:32the sheriff and the county boat. He'd
15:33written an email to the county
15:34commission. He had a reply saved on his
15:36phone. It said, "Thank you for your
15:38concerns. The facility holds a valid
15:40permit. Your complaint has been
15:41forwarded to the appropriate agency." He
15:43said, "The appropriate agency forwarded
15:45it back." I took pictures of the trailer
15:46and the pill bottle and the email. I
15:48walked home with my head pounding and
15:49sat on my porch and looked at the ridge.
15:51On Friday, I called the county
15:52commission office from my kitchen. A
15:54polite woman [clears throat] explained
15:55that the range operated under a
15:57conditional use permit issued in 2009
15:59and expanded in 2024. That safety
16:01complaints about shooting facilities
16:03were a law enforcement matter and should
16:04go to the sheriff. And that the
16:06sheriff's office had in the past found
16:07no evidence connecting any incident to
16:09the range. I said, "I have a bullet that
16:11came out of my head." She paused. She
16:13said, "Then I'd encourage you to share
16:14that with the sheriff." I said, "I did.
16:16He told me to talk to you. That's how it
16:18works out here." I was learning.
16:19Everybody's job was somebody else's job.
16:21That night, Lorraine sat down across
16:22from me at the kitchen table while Jared
16:24was putting the girls to bed. She folded
16:26her hands on the oilcloth. She said,
16:27"You need to think about what you're
16:28doing, Shan. Walking up and down the
16:30road telling people Jared shot you.
16:32You're going to ruin him. He's family."
16:33I said, "Somebody shot me. I'm trying to
16:35find out who." She said, "A stray bullet
16:37is an accident. Accidents happen. Nobody
16:39meant anything. And you're alive." Then
16:41she said, "Jared paid for my hip, you
16:42know, when the insurance wouldn't cover
16:44the rehab place. $11,000 and he never
16:47once asked for it back. And he's given
16:48Jared a job for 4 years when nobody else
16:50in this county would hire a man without
16:52a degree. This family owes him." I
16:54looked toward the hallway. Jared was
16:55standing in it. I don't know how long
16:56he'd been there. He looked at his mother
16:58and then at me and then at the floor and
17:00he didn't say a single word. Then he
17:01turned and went back into the girls'
17:03room. At 2:00 in the morning, I went out
17:05to Jared's truck in my socks. I'm not
17:07proud of it. I'd never gone through his
17:08things in 13 years, but I'd been lying
17:10awake thinking about the way he'd
17:12answered a question nobody asked him at
17:13the hospital and the way he'd wanted to
17:15know what kind of bullet and the way
17:16he'd pressed around the edges of my
17:18sting on that first night, and then gone
17:20into his mother's room and shut the
17:21door. Jared keeps a small spiral
17:23notebook in the door pocket of his
17:24truck. Range officers log every relay at
17:27a match, the start time and end time,
17:29any malfunctions, any problems. He's
17:31very careful about it. It's the kind of
17:33record that protects you if something
17:34goes wrong. I found it by the dome
17:36light. I flipped back to September 12th.
17:37Big Sky 1K, relay 1, 1:04 p.m. Relay 2,
17:411:51 p.m. All the way down the page in
17:43his neat block capitals. Relay 6, 6:22
17:46p.m. Relay 7, 7:02 p.m. And then
17:49nothing. The next page had been torn
17:51out. You could see the little paper
17:52teeth left in the spiral wire. The page
17:54after that started with September 13th,
17:56cleanup, rake brass. I took a picture of
17:58it with my phone, with the torn stub
17:59showing. Then I put the notebook back
18:01exactly the way I'd found it and went
18:03back to bed and lay next to my husband
18:04until the sun came up. I gave the photo
18:06to Detective McClain on Monday. He
18:08studied it a long time. He said, "It's
18:10suspicious. It's not proof. A man can
18:12tear a page out of his own notebook for
18:13a lot of reasons. Spilled coffee, wrote
18:15something wrong." I said, "He's the most
18:17careful man I've ever met." He said, "I
18:18believe you. I'm telling you how a
18:20lawyer would say it." He told me
18:21something else that morning. Because of
18:22the lab results and the neighbor's
18:24reports, he'd formally asked the county
18:25to review the range's permit for its
18:27long-distance course. That meant a
18:28public hearing before the county
18:29commission. He said those usually took
18:31months. I asked if there was anything I
18:33could do to make it take less. He
18:34thought about it. He said, "You could
18:36get a lawyer." So I did. A personal
18:37injury attorney in Billings took my case
18:39on contingency, which means she only
18:41gets paid if I do, and she listened to
18:42my whole story in her office with her
18:44chin in her hand and then said, "We need
18:46an expert." She hired a range safety
18:47consultant out of Bozeman. He was a
18:49retired Army range control officer who
18:51now evaluates shooting ranges for
18:53counties and insurance companies all
18:54over the West. He walked our property
18:56with a laser range finder. He walked the
18:58ridge. He went to the range with a
18:59sheriff's deputy, since Jared wouldn't
19:01let him in on his own. 10 days later, he
19:03sent a report with a map. The map showed
19:04the range from above, the firing line
19:06and the target stands, and drawn out
19:08from the steel targets at the far end, a
19:09long pale red shape like a fan. He
19:12called it the Ricochet Danger Zone. It
19:14showed where a bullet that struck one of
19:15those steel plates at an angle could
19:17travel if it skipped up and over the
19:19berm instead of going into it. It went
19:21right over the ridge. Our back porch was
19:22inside it. So was the clothesline. So
19:24were the neighbors horse trailer and
19:25their garden shed. The report said the
19:27steel targets numbered seven through 10
19:29had been set at an angle and height that
19:31made ricochets over the berm, in his
19:33words, foreseeable and likely. It said
19:35the berm was 4 ft too short for the
19:36distance course. It said this was a
19:38known problem and that standard fixes,
19:40overhead baffles, and angled target
19:42stands had been available for years. My
19:44lawyer sent it to the county. The county
19:45moved the hearing up Thursday, October
19:471st. The night before the hearing, at
19:49about 8:00, Jared Witt knocked on our
19:51front door. He had his hat in his hand
19:53and a white envelope in the other.
19:55Lorene let him in like he was a pastor.
19:57Jared stood up off the couch and didn't
19:59sit back down. Jared sat at my kitchen
20:00table, in my chair, and slid the
20:02envelope across to me. Inside was a
20:04check for $5,000 made out to me and two
20:06typed pages. He said, "For your medical
20:08bills. No hard feelings. I'm sick about
20:10what happened to you, Cheyenne. Whatever
20:12happened." I unfolded the pages. The
20:13second one was a release. It said that
20:15in exchange for the $5,000, I released
20:17Big Sky Precision Range and its owner
20:19from any and all claims arising from any
20:22incident on or about September 12th. I
20:24said, "This says I can't sue you." He
20:26smiled. He said, "It says we're
20:27neighbors." I said, "No." His smile
20:29stayed exactly where it was. He looked
20:31across the room at my husband. He said,
20:32very pleasantly, "Well, Jared works for
20:34me. You think about that tonight. That's
20:36all I'm asking." Lorene said, "Cheyenne,
20:38take the check. For the girls." Jared
20:40was staring at the linoleum. His hands
20:42were in fists at his sides. He didn't
20:43say take it. He didn't say don't. He
20:45didn't say anything at all. Jared left
20:47the envelope on the table and put his
20:49hat back on and said good night to the
20:50girls who were peeking around the
20:51hallway corner by name. I sat at the
20:53table after he left and looked at that
20:55check for an hour. $5,000 was more than
20:57my Tahoe's transmission, more than my
20:59deductible. It was groceries until
21:01spring. And if I tore it up, my husband
21:02was going to lose his job, the only one
21:04he'd ever loved. And my mother-in-law
21:06was going to hate me in my own house. I
21:08could hear Jared in the bedroom, not
21:09sleeping. I could hear Lorene on the
21:11phone in her room, her voice low. I
21:13picked up the check. I held it for a
21:14long time. The county commission meets
21:16in a beige room on the third floor of
21:17the courthouse in Billings with three
21:19commissioners at a long table and a
21:21podium with a microphone for the public.
21:23On Thursday afternoon, October 1st, the
21:25room was fuller than I'd ever seen any
21:27room in that building. My neighbors were
21:29there. The rancher with the blue healer,
21:31the young couple with the baby in a car
21:32seat. Jared was there with a lawyer in a
21:34gray suit and about 15 men from the
21:36range in matching shirts. Lorene was
21:38there in the back row on Jared's side of
21:40the aisle. Jared came in late, alone,
21:42and sat in the very last seat by the
21:44door. The commission chair, a rancher
21:46with a white mustache, read the agenda
21:47item. Jared's lawyer spoke first. He
21:49talked about the range's 17 years of
21:51safe operation, about the economic
21:53benefits, about shooting sports in
21:55Montana's heritage. He said there was no
21:57evidence linking any incident to the
21:59facility. He called it an unfortunate
22:01accident of unknown origin. Then my
22:03lawyer spoke and handed up the
22:04consultant's report and the map and the
22:06neighbors' photos and the slug from the
22:07wheelbarrow and the reply email that
22:09said the appropriate agency. Then the
22:10chair said, "Is Mrs. Potter here? Would
22:12you like to speak?" I walked to the
22:13podium. My legs felt like they belonged
22:15to somebody else. I had the $5,000 check
22:18folded in my back pocket and I had a
22:19large printout in a manila folder. I
22:21took the printout out and held it up so
22:23all three commissioners could see it. It
22:24was the scan from the hospital, the
22:26ghostly gray shape of my own skull and
22:28the small white star behind my right
22:29ear. I said, "This is my head. This
22:31white thing is a 6.5 mm bullet with
22:34steel marks on it. It came out of me on
22:35September 19th. It went into me on
22:37September 12th at 20 past 7:00 in my own
22:39backyard while I was taking sheets off
22:41the line. I drive a school bus. For 7
22:43days I drove 52 children around this
22:45county with this in my head because I
22:46was told it was a wasp." The room was
22:48absolutely silent. One of the
22:50commissioners, a woman with reading
22:51glasses on a chain, put her hand over
22:53her mouth. I said, "I don't know who
22:54fired it. I know where it came from. I'm
22:56asking you to look at it." Then I took
22:58the check out of my back pocket and laid
22:59it on the podium unfolded, face up. I
23:01said, "Last night the owner of the range
23:03offered me this to sign away my right to
23:05be here. I'm giving it back." The chair
23:06cleared his throat. He looked at his
23:08agenda. Then he looked out at the room
23:09and said, "The commission understands
23:11the range officer for the September 12th
23:13event is present. Mr. Potter, is that
23:15right? Would you come up and answer a
23:16question for the record?" Every head in
23:17the room turned toward the back. Jared
23:19stood up. He walked up the aisle past
23:21his mother, who reached out and caught
23:22his sleeve, and he gently took her hand
23:24off and kept walking. He stopped beside
23:26me at the podium. He didn't look at
23:27Jared. The chair said, "Did any round
23:29leave the range during the September
23:3012th match to your knowledge?" Jared
23:32said, "Yes, sir." His voice cracked. He
23:34tried again. He said, "At about 7:15 on
23:36relay 7, a shooter on lane 4 hit the
23:38edge of plate 9. I heard it ring wrong.
23:40Then I heard it whine high over the berm
23:42toward the ridge. I knew what it was. I
23:44logged it in my book. When I got home
23:46and saw my wife's ear, I knew where it
23:47went." He said, "I tore the page out. I
23:49told my mother that night, and I told
23:51Jared in the morning, and we decided
23:52she'd be fine. That if we took her in,
23:54the doctors would have to call it in,
23:56and the sheriff would shut down the
23:57long-range course in the middle of the
23:58season, and I'd lose my job. We decided
24:00she'd be fine." He turned and looked at
24:02me. His eyes were red. He said, "She
24:04wasn't fine. She was driving the bus."
24:06The commission suspended the permit for
24:07the long-distance course that afternoon,
24:09unanimously, until the range installs
24:11engineered overhead baffles and new
24:13target stands that the consultant
24:14approves. The rest of the range can stay
24:16open. The long-distance course has been
24:18closed ever since. Detective McLean told
24:20me later that a stray round from a
24:21lawful range with no intent is hard to
24:23make a crime out of, and that's the
24:25honest truth of it. Nobody went to jail.
24:27But my lawyer filed a civil claim, and
24:29the range's insurance company settled it
24:30before Christmas. They paid every of my
24:33hospital bills and the cab and the Tahoe
24:35and a good deal more than $5,000. My
24:37neighbors are getting their trailer and
24:39their shed roof paid for, too. Jared
24:40fired Jared the morning after the
24:42hearing. Jared says he would have quit
24:43anyway. He's driving a gravel truck now
24:45for a company in Laurel. The girls and I
24:46moved in with my sister in town the week
24:48after the hearing. Jared and I talk
24:49every day. He comes to dinner on
24:51Sundays. He says he'll spend the rest of
24:52his life knowing what his silence cost,
24:54and I believe that he means it. But
24:55believing someone isn't the same as
24:57trusting them again. We're figuring out
24:58what we are now. Lorene moved back into
25:00her own house in October. She hired a
25:02man to put in a stair lift. She sent the
25:03girls birthday cards. She hasn't spoken
25:05to me. I'm back on Route 11. 52 kids,
25:08gravel roads, cattle guards. Every
25:10morning in my sister's kitchen while the
25:11coffee drips, I look at the printout
25:13stuck to her fridge with a magnet shaped
25:15like a cow. My skull, gray and ghostly,
25:17and the little white star behind my
25:18right ear. Right beside it is my
25:20laminated route map. I like them
25:21together. One of them is where I've
25:23been. The other is where I'm going.

About this transcript

This page contains the full transcript of I'd had a headache for 7 days, but my husband and his mother kept saying, It's nothing. by OverTales, generated from the public captions YouTube serves with the video. The transcript has 6,521 words across 880 segments, with the original timestamps preserved so you can click any line to jump to that moment in the embedded player.

What you can do with it

Use the transcript to take notes, quote the speaker, build a study guide, generate a summary with ChatGPT or Claude via the YouTube Summary tool, or export it as a timed subtitle file with YouTube to SRT. You can also re-open it in the transcriber to translate the transcript into 100+ languages.

Free YouTube transcript tool

YouTube2Text is a free YouTube transcript generator — no signup, no daily limit. Paste any YouTube link and get the full transcript instantly, with timestamps, click-to-jump, translation to 100+ languages, AI prompts for ChatGPT, Claude, and Gemini, and exports to TXT, SRT, VTT, or Markdown.